Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband

414 Escape (Cass)

"Idiot," I whisper, my voice cracking. My throat tightens with shame. How did I let myself get here?

I picture my mom's face, the warmth in her eyes, the way she used to brush my hair and tell me I'd grow up to do great things.

A sob claws its way up, and I swallow it back. I can't break down. Not here, not now.

1 slide to the floor, knees pulled up to my chest, trying to catch my breath. Everything in my life is in ruins, and it's my fault. I suck at running my own life. If Mom could see me now, she'd be so disappointed.

I wipe at my face, missing my mom with a fierceness that cuts. Life felt safe when she was alive. Predictable. Now I'm a disaster, a pathetic screw-up who can't make one decent decision.

If only I'd 4istened to her more. If only she were here to tell me what to do, to hold me and promise everything would be okay.

I push out of the shop front, clutching my backpack tight, and head toward my apartment. I just need my passport and the last of the money I've stashed.

My mind is a mess, replaying the gunshot, the blood, the stranger's lifeless eyes. The police will come for me soon enough. They'll trace everything back to me. I know that's how this works. There will be some magical evidence that makes me the person who fired the gun. That's how this underbelly world works. If they want you gone, they get you gone one way or another.

When I reach my tiny apartment, my legs barely hold me up. The door hangs off its hinges and my heart sinks.

They've been here already. I was never meant to come out of the drug deal alive. That's clear. I move slow and quiet. I don't know if anyone is still in here.

My heart breaks when I see how smashed everything is. My photos and memories of Mom. It's completely trashed and ripped up. My whole life was in here. All my hope for a better future I was building for myself. I was doing so well until that kidnapping in Cancun. I have to try harder this time. I will.

"I'm such a damn fool."

I work my way into the bathroom praying they haven't found my real stash. I have some cash and those pills I borrowed from each bag I sold. I pull out the false back behind the bathroom cabinet mirror.

It's all still in there. I grab it and stuff some clothes in a backpack and leave again. I have to get away, right away. I can fix this in time. I just need to get myself straight. And I will.

I'll wean off the pills, just use enough to help me think straight for now.

Then when I'm off it completely I can come back and explain what happened. I miss Winona and the kids. 1 miss my Mom. Why can't I just get my shit together like other people can?

I drop to my knees, the hopelessness crushing me, but the survival instinct kicks in. I have to move. I have

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414 Escape

to run.

Something creaks, and my head snaps up. A shadow moves across the crack in the door frame, and I'm on my feet, my body tensed like a spring.

"Cass?" A rough voice calls, followed by heavy footsteps. My blood runs cold. "Just give me what you owe and I'll leave."

"Shit, shit, shit," I say under my breath, scrambling for my bag. I should've left already. Why did I stay so long?

The footsteps come closer, and I do the only thing I can think of: I lunge for the back window, shoving it open. The rusty frame groans, but I manage to squeeze through, landing in the alley below with a graceless thud, Pain shoots up my legs, but I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

I run as fast as I can. Adrenaline driving me through the pain. My feet pound the pavement, every shadow a potential threat. My chest burns, but I can't stop. Not until I'm sure I'm far enough away.

Finally, I duck into an abandoned building, collapsing against a wall. My hands are trembling so bad I can barely type, but I manage to pull up a flight app.

The last of my drug money will get me out of here. But only have a few hundred in my account.

"Brussels," I murmur, the name a lifeline. Winona's there. She's all I've got left. If I can just get clean, get my head straight, maybe I can salvage something.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

But I don't think there's enough in my bank to get all the way there. I'm going to have to be creative and pray I don't get stopped and questioned by customs anywhere.

Right now, I just got to get away from here and I'll need some luggage. Just leaving with a backpack looks suspect. I'll call a taxi and get to the department store.

I could call Winona and I know her and Jayden would get me there. But that would mean questions on my sudden change of heart. I'm not ready to tell her what a fuck up I am yet. I want to fix this. To prove I can. To her and to me.

Admitting just how badly I've screwed up? I can't do it. Not yet. If she knows how low I've sunk, she'll look at me the way everyone else does: like I'm a lost cause.

I use my taxi app to order a pick up and then do a quick search on possible countries to head for. Portugal seems doable. Once there I can find ways to Brussels. I just need to look like I'm a tourist backpacking around or maybe find a cheap tour group to join.

I book the flight out of the country, my heart hammering with a mix of relief and terror. This can work. I'll make my way to Brussels and get my life back on track.

It's a gamble, but I've been gambling for a while now, haven't I? Always thinking the next move will save me, turn my luck around.

The problem is, I'm out of moves here.

Even if I'm too ashamed to tell Winona the truth, I can get clean, get my head on straight, and figure out what the hell to do. I'll tell her I've always wanted to travel so I thought what the hell?'

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Winona warned me this would happen. I have to fix my

Because if I don't, I've got nothing left.

415 Heart to Heart

415 Heart to Heart